'BOREALIS RISING' - A Subnautica Story V2.0.

Comments

Do you think we can get artwork for the Android bodies of SELKIRK, JUNO, IANTO and DIGBY?

If I knew my way around 3D rendering software and had any skill as an illustrator, there would be artwork.
Unfortunately, I defer to the skill of others in this case.

A rough guide to the central characters: I envisage Selkirk's role being played by Simon Pegg. JUNO is a younger composite of Sigourney Weaver and Helen Mirren. IANTO is basically Ewan McGregor as young Obi-Wan Kenobi. DIGBY resembles Karl Urban.

The Gen II ExoSuit is only slightly different in external appearance to the P.R.A.W.N mech-suit. Better thermal protection and kinetic energy resistance. More powerful thrusters with limited atmospheric flight capability. However, Its internal equipment suite is vastly superior to the current version.

Instead of the standard drill extension and a single manipulator claw, a Gen II's arms terminate in two streamlined 'gauntlets' that contain hand-like manipulators, with paired heavy repulsion cannons and stasis beam emitters integral to both arm pods, along with a built-in welder & base construction tool (RH), laser cutter and Terraformer (LH).

The inner airlock door opened. We stepped out of the chamber and into the central corridor. The airlock door slid closed behind us. Massive locking bolts slammed home with an ominous air of finality.

"Okay. I'm definitely having second thoughts about this." I muttered sub-audibly.

"How so, Captain?" JUNO inquired. "This is the only morally acceptable course of action left open."

"True. Ah, I'm still trying to find a more diplomatic turn of phrase other than Hey, I'm terribly sorry that I royally screwed you folks over a century ago... Incidentally, would you like to be rescued?"

"Captain, I recommend that we proceed on foot from this point onward." DIBGY suggested.

All four ExoSuits squatted on their haunches. We climbed out and walked slowly into the facility's central atrium. My tactical HUD identified and marked 46 heat signatures loosely scattered about the area. No obvious weapons, no barricades, no tactical formations evident. Just normal people.

"Air composition's a little off in here." IANTO said. "Current reading is 16.7 per cent O2. Nitrogen at 78.3 per cent, 0.95 per cent argon, 0.045 per cent carbon dioxide, and trace amounts of other gases. Sub-optimal, but still capable of sustaining human life."

We came to a halt just inside the atrium. The base's inhabitants turned and regarded us cautiously.

"Hi there!" I said cheerfully, "We're from Alterra Corp. We found your base a while back, and we're just checking in to make sure everything's okay down here... Is there anything we can do for you?"

I cringed inwardly, instantly regretting what I had said. Still, we have to start somewhere.

Several people started to walk towards us, drifting together from the larger group. Most likely a delegation of department supervisors, or presumably the community's designated negotiators. They all appeared to be generally healthy as a whole, although there were obvious signs that conditions could be much more comfortable down here. Their clothing was careworn and purely functional, without any visible signs of adornment. Some older men and women still bore the distinctive Torgaljin moko, facial tattoos that indicated their status in Belter society. One hard-faced woman in grey coveralls pushed her way through the group to stand directly in front of us. Toe to toe.

"Meneer, identify yourself and state your purpose for coming here." She snapped.

"Alexander Selkirk, acting captain of the Aurora mission. My colleagues JUNO, IANTO and DIGBY." I added, gesturing to each in turn. "We wish to offer assistance and relocation to the surface, should your people request it."

Her eyes widened. "Selkirk? - The same Selkirk who threw down House Torgal? - Impossible!"

This was news to me. I wouldn't say that I destroyed the nascent Torgaljin Empire. Gave its snotty little scion a decent whack in the chops and took away their hostage, but not destroyed it, surely...

"Well, not quite the same Selkirk. I died of old age. My personality now occupies an android body."

I'm extremely late to this party being brought here by the Xbox ones preview program, And WOW! I read Aurora falls start to finish within a day and it was simply amazing!

Now this next comment is also really late aswell but.

Instead of me coming up with my own theories why did you name the belters ship the De ruyter? Seeing as Michiel De Ruyter is widely considered one of the best admirals in history.. The ship and its crew had a rather quick and horrific end.. Well so did De Ruyter aswell.. Insert arrow (cannon ball) to the knee joke here

Why would you tell them you are the same Selkirk! Could you not have waited to get them to safety before saying it. Like after getting them to safety be like; "By the way, I am selkirk, the guy who trapped you down there in the first place! Hope this rescue made up for that!"
Now this can only go two ways:
1. Rage fills up within them and they beat you to a pulp. Or
2. They won't accept your rescue.
3. I know I said only 2 but it is your story so it could end up you rescue them even after telling them.

Why would you tell them you are the same Selkirk! Could you not have waited to get them to safety before saying it. Like after getting them to safety be like; "By the way, I am selkirk, the guy who trapped you down there in the first place! Hope this rescue made up for that!"
Now this can only go two ways:
1. Rage fills up within them and they beat you to a pulp. Or
2. They won't accept your rescue.
3. I know I said only 2 but it is your story so it could end up you rescue them even after telling them.

Why would you tell them you are the same Selkirk! Could you not have waited to get them to safety before saying it. Like after getting them to safety be like; "By the way, I am selkirk, the guy who trapped you down there in the first place! Hope this rescue made up for that!"
Now this can only go two ways:
1. Rage fills up within them and they beat you to a pulp. Or
2. They won't accept your rescue.
3. I know I said only 2 but it is your story so it could end up you rescue them even after telling them.

yeah, I guess they could worship him. Never even crossed my mind. But this is like a new generation, they wouldn't know about the world outside and wouldn't care. The facility elders may have told them about the evil torgaljin corp that sent them down here in the first place and the hero, selkirk, who took them down. And they were just caught in the cross-fire and ended up getting stuck down there.

Instead of me coming up with my own theories why did you name the belters ship the De ruyter? Seeing as Michiel De Ruyter is widely considered one of the best admirals in history.. The ship and its crew had a rather quick and horrific end.. Well so did De Ruyter aswell.. Insert arrow (cannon ball) to the knee joke here

Good catch.

Actually, 'De Ruyter' ('The Raider') was a nickname bestowed upon, then adopted by the Dutch Admiral Michiel Adriaenszoon.
Figured it might be a good name for a Torgaljin commercial frigate, given the family's rapacious attitude toward commerce.

Actually, 'De Ruyter' ('The Raider') was a nickname bestowed upon, then adopted by the Dutch Admiral Michiel Adriaenszoon.
Figured it might be a good name for a Torgaljin commercial frigate, given the family's rapacious attitude toward commerce.

"Hey, your skin is warm!" She said. "Why you trying to pass yourself off as a human, Klankie?"

I shook my head. "I'm not. After spending a couple of years as an android, I found myself missing all of the things that made me fundamentally human in the first place. Eating, drinking and sleeping were the biggies, though. It was a quality of life decision. Speaking of which, are you prepared to listen to what we're offering?"

"Fire away, baas. As you can tell, things aren't going all that good down here. Molto cattivo, in fact. We recently lost a couple of sections in the 'ponics bay to some kind of alien blight. Had to torch the lot to save our food stocks and O2 replenishment. It was a bad business, but we're slowly getting back on our feet."

I noticed that other inhabitants in the atrium were gradually edging closer, trying to listen in on our conversation. I wasn't too keen on the idea of being hemmed in on all sides, particularly since there was no way of knowing how these folk would react to what I had to say. It was all still pretty much touch-and-go, as far as I could tell.

"Miss, is there someplace we can discuss this in private?" I asked.

She fixed me with a disdainful stare.

"Meneer, we have an old saying down here... Locked doors, false smiles and hidden blades. It's served us well as a reminder of what happens after the clever whispering starts. Nyet, what you say to one of us, everyone must hear."

"That's fine by me. I've no secrets worth hiding anyway. By the way, you still haven't told me your name. I'd like to know who I'm talking to, at the very least."

"Héloise Maida. You may have met my grandmother at some stage during your last visit."

"Marguerit. Yes, I've met her before. A truly formidable woman." I said respectfully.

Maida grinned wolfishly, then lowered her voice.

"She had a slightly different opinion of you and your meshuggeneh antics. Might even get around to telling you what she said sometime."

Eventually, we managed to get some kind of basic rapport established. Héloise was part of the colony's six-person management committee, although it wasn't 'management' as you or I might perceive it. More like a logistics committee, actually. When there was something that needed to be done, the colonists simply rolled up their sleeves and did it. No hierarchy, no whip-cracking, no politics or power games. Apparently, they lived entirely by the simple maxim, 'If you work, you eat.'

Small wonder what happened to the Elites, then. According to Héloise, Baat Torgal was the first to go. Assassinated a month after our raid by the colony administrator, Ras Thaalu. There was a brief power struggle among the remaining Elites, although this meant nothing to the workers themselves. In the end, only one Elite remained. When she played the high and mighty card on the other colonists, they simply ignored her. Too precious to pitch in along with everyone else, she eventually starved to death.

All things considered, the colonists had acquitted themselves exceedingly well under punishing conditions. Overall, their morale was fair to middling, which was something of an unexpected result. I'd have to say that their shared hardship and sense of solidarity contributed significantly toward their mental welfare and survival, combined with the mercifully early loss of all unnecessary personnel.

This society is tricky to categorise in terms of its structure, in that it is entirely amorphous. There are no rigidly-defined leaders or any obvious signs of stratification based on the occupations of colonists. A cleaner has precisely the same societal 'weight' as a bio-technician here. Since the colony's one and only tangible goal is its continued survival, there are no artificial incentives to become 'better' than anyone else. At the risk of reaching a facile conclusion, I believe these colonists may have actually succeeded in creating the very first fully functional Anarcho-Syndicalist commune in human-occupied space. Before you start laughing, bear in mind that this particular social structure has lasted longer than the former USSR.

And it actually works... For them at least.

However laudable the 'dignity of honest labour' might sound, it doesn't mean a good gorram unless you've got a full belly at the end of each and every day, a comfortable place to sleep and a clear shot at taking a lazy day off every once in a while. JUNO informed me that these colonists have been operating on an average daily caloric intake of 8,500 kilojoules or less for the past couple of months. Roughly half the recommended daily dosage of The Good Stuff. I conjure we can do far better than that. We can also give these folks a future.

"When we attacked this base a century ago, I sincerely believed that we were doing it for the right reasons. Torgaljin Corporation was holding a powerful life form captive. One that is essential to the continued survival of all life on this planet... Human life included. It is sentient and highly intelligent, as are other inhabitants of this planet. Although humans are still considered unwelcome here, we have been able to prevent any future large-scale attacks such as those inflicted on Aurora and De Ruyter, primarily due to our efforts in rescuing the alien entity known as 'The Father of Tides'."

I paused for a moment, allowing the holographic projection of these events to catch up with my narration. The colonists were watching intently, apparently hanging onto my every word.

"Our incursion did not involve lethal force at any point. This was entirely intentional. I realized that only a very small fraction of base personnel would profit from abducting the alien life form. It was also taken into consideration that most of the facility's inhabitants would not be combatants, so every possible safety precaution was taken to ensure zero casualties during this operation."

Cut to show DIGBY dancing the Rockpuncher Combat Salsa atop his ExoSuit, Percival.

"However, it was never my intention to subject the majority of this base's inhabitants to any appreciable degree of hardship, and for this I am truly sorry. I felt that it was necessary to delete core technologies capable of producing weapon systems, in order to contain any future ambitions of House Torgal. I also felt that a lengthy 'quarantine' period would permit the colony's social structure to gradually re-align itself into something less hostile to anyone or anything else living on this planet.
Again, I apologise for any hardship this may have caused."

"Pretty words, baas. You say you want to help us. I find myself asking why." She said bluntly.

Almost wearily, I sat down on a stone bench. After a moment to consider her statement, I replied.

"Absolution, I guess. I made a terrible mistake, a long time ago. There's no way that I can entirely redress what I've done, leaving you folks alone in the darkness, as I did. The best I can offer is a fresh start, a chance to stand in sunlight on solid ground, breathing air that hasn't had the last atom of vitality sucked from it."

"Sounds pretty good to me. I've often wondered what it's like up there." Héloise said reflectively. "What do you want from us, in return for all this good fortune?"

"That's the best part," I grinned. "Absolutely nothing. All I ask is that your people treat this planet with some respect. There are intelligent creatures living here, and they are following their own agenda. There's an understanding of sorts between us at present, and I do not want to see this arrangement jeopardised. It's in your people's best interests as well."

"Fair enough. What if we don't want to leave here?"

"No problem. We can provide technical assistance and material aid to improve your living conditions, construct additional facilities, equipment and vehicles to give you access to the world above. Can't exactly conjure why you'd prefer to stay down here, though. Believe me, life's much better topside."

"I'll take your word for it. We'll need to talk this one through before I can give you an answer."

"Sure. Take all the time you need. Speaking of which, do your people need anything right at this very moment? We've brought food packs, medical supplies and materials for onsite fabrication."

Héloise fell silent for a moment, a slow smile dawning on her face.

"Some of those food packs you mentioned would be a good start... Am I right, mates?"

A resounding cheer rang through the atrium. I nodded to JUNO, IANTO and DIGBY. Taranis would be waiting in the sub bay by the time we got down there. As an interim measure, I constructed a couple of auto-galleys in alcoves along one side of the atrium. They would need to be stocked with base protein and carbohydrate solutions before they were fully operational, although that didn't stop eager queues from forming the very second the machines materialised.

I raised my voice to address the minor but orderly crowd that had gathered around the galleys.

"Okay folks, these galley units will need to be fuelled up first. Just a quick word of warning, though. Please take it easy for your first few meals. I recommend that you eat the food packs my friends are bringing first, because these galleys turn out food considerably richer than what you're used to. There's a good chance your stomachs might rebel if you over-indulge. To be blunt, a definite case of the Trotskies awaits the unwary diner. Fortunately, we have also brought a full range of medicines to soothe a griping tummy. Enjoy."

We walked back to the sub bay. A small number of colonists tagged along as far as the airlock, visibly excited by the prospect of a substantial meal. These poor sods have been surviving on a meagre and monotonous diet of fish, rice and some adapted Terran vegetables since the Year Dot, occasionally supplemented with vile-looking blocks of reconstituted protein and algae wafers. To his credit, IANTO put some serious thought into designing the meal packs we brought. Each pack was a one man, 24-hour ration capable of providing 18,000 kilojoules per meal. We had 2,000 packs aboard Taranis, plus 400 litres of the auto-galley concentrates I called 'Miracle Soup'. This initial shipment of meals had been engineered to be tasty and nutritious, but light and easily digestible.

Most well-meaning folk would gladly hand over a hefty swag of calorie-dense food to the nearest group of starving people. Unfortunately, that's a potentially disastrous rookie mistake. Any digestive system deprived of substantial food for too long simply can't handle it. It's best to space out the first few meals with small portions and a modest assortment of courses over a few days, then slowly ramp up the calorie intake.

Ever hear the expression 'Society is only seven meals from Anarchy'? This is precisely why we were feeding these people, right from the get-go. Frankly, they were dangerously close to starving but were far too proud to admit it. I saw it in their eyes. Unmistakable. If all went according to plan, we would be asking these colonists to step aboard a sealed transfer vehicle and meekly accept being transported to who-knows-where, then expect them to sit tight for a 30-day decompression cycle. That's a huge ask to drop on anyone. For this operation to proceed without a hitch, I needed these people well fed, fit and willing to trust us implicitly. I was well aware of the ghastly spectre of cattle cars and concentration camps that still lurks in the collective human psyche, and these folk are shrewd enough to make the very same connection.

This approach is not part of some fiendish android master-plan, if that's what you're thinking.

We're aiming for total transparency here. At each stage of this operation, these people will be made aware of what's taking place. More importantly, they will also be told why. Unfortunately, there might be certain times when paranoia could take the reins. The prospect of stepping into an atmospherically sealed transfer vehicle could be a deal-breaker for some folks. Having to spend 30 days locked in a sub-sea decompression facility might do it for others. Our only hope is to play an open hand and let them know each stage of the plan well in advance. If we can keep them well fed, entertained and comfortable, everyone might get through this in one piece.

Once the freight elevator surfaced in the sub bay, it was a simple matter of transferring our supply shipment to a nearby powered cart and six trailers. There was an unavoidable delay as the main airlock ran through its cycle, although it wouldn't take very long to get this lot distributed. I fully expected a mad rush as soon as the cargo train cleared the airlock. However, a self-appointed squad of porters patiently waited until the train halted in the atrium, then proceeded to distribute the cargo modules to small groups of waiting colonists. It was an orderly and efficient process, performed with an surprising economy of effort. There was a brief moment of awed silence as DIGBY picked up two 100-kilo carboys of Miracle Soup as easily as a pair of light overnight bags, then calmly proceeded to load up the first auto-galley with nutrient mix.

Quite frankly Bugzapper, while your writing is pretty good, it has been WAY to long since Selkirk encountered a real problem, and had something not go 100% to plan. So far, for all of this story and the latter part of the last one, he has had absolutely everything perfectly in hand. He has had plans for every possible contingency, and everything has gone exactly how he expects.

Despite him frequently saying "you never know what this planet is going to throw at you" and "I never know what to expect from this world", he has, for quite some time, known EXACTLY what to expect, and been right in every single action.

He is right now just seeming like some omnicesnt, infallible being whose plans always work out perfectly in every possible way. That doesn't make for a very good story.

I find it quite likely I will get hate for saying this, based on a lot of the replys I saw in "Aurora Falls". I hope that you yourself will not be a part of that, as I really am simply trying to give you advice.

Quite frankly Bugzapper, while your writing is pretty good, it has been WAY to long since Selkirk encountered a real problem. *snip*

I'm sure he'll have his share of problems, but how keen would you be on solving stuff if you lived a hundred years on a (now much less) hostile alien world? He's had a super-fast android brain and plenty of time to plan this out. He's not as brash as he was when he arrived. Give it a chapter or two, this is good character development. We have to be re-introduced to the new version of Selkirk. Selkirk the older android. His current problem IS something that didnt go according to plan, it's just more a philosophical issue than a physical threat. Not that I'm harshing your feedback, I get where you're going, just playing devils (Bugzapper's?) advocate

There was some kind of commotion brewing over in one corner of the atrium. Raised voices and wild gesticulations were reaching the point where concerned heads began to turn.

"Whoa. That didn't take long at all. The first faint murmurs of discontent... Definitely didn't see that one coming." I sub-vocalised.

"Unfortunate, but sadly inevitable, Captain." JUNO added. "Aggressive and disruptive behaviour is an integral flaw of any social dynamic, regardless of its current circumstances. Do you wish to intervene, Sir?"

I shrugged. "Not my circus, not my monkey. I'm guessing he's trying to establish himself as the alpha silverback in this group. Let him blow off some steam, and we'll see how it works out."

I walked over to the committee seated nearby. "Héloise, who is that guy?" I asked quietly.

She continued eating, not bothering to look up. It was a carefully guarded gesture on her part.

"Armin Polyakov. One of our duly appointed Invigilators. And before you ask, he's not alone."

"What's his beef exactly? Reckon he got a dud meal pack, or is there something else involved?"

"Keep a close eye on him, Selkirk. He's a molto cattivo customer. Fartsovshchik. Black marketeer. He's suspected of muscling food and supplies from other folks to keep his operation afloat. Of course, we can't prove anything or even make a move on his nasty mates. A few of us have tried, but they're no longer with us... Know what I'm saying, baas?"

Without warning, Héloise raised her voice in a booming yell, sending echoes flying through the cavernous space.

"Armin Mikhailovitch! Will you shut your howling great yap? People are trying to eat here!"

Oh crap.

The yelling stopped. Polyakov's head snapped around in our direction. Yes, he was extremely pissed. I rose from the bench, intending to meet him halfway. He shoved past me with an incoherent snarl. Before I could stop him, Polyakov strode angrily up to Héloise, his thickset face beet-red with fury.

Polyakov actually stood head and shoulders above me. Judging by the force of that half-hearted push, he might even be able to do some damage before JUNO and Co. could get to him. Warning! Extreme danger, Will Robinson!

"What was that you said, you ratty old soomka?" He rumbled menacingly.

Polyakov's face went straight from ruby to infra-red. He bunched a fist the size of a Christmas ham. My left arm shot out, fingers catching his wrist before his hand could finish closing. I squeezed his wrist firmly, just enough to let him know who was on the other end of that arm.

"Don't." I hissed, adding a few kilopascals for emphasis. "Gospodin... Please apologise to Mme. Maida and kindly return to your meal. You must be still quite hungry." I said, smiling pleasantly.

I relaxed my grip. Polyakov angrily shook himself loose. He pushed his face close to mine. Lovely.

"Stay out of this, boet. It's none of your ruttin' business. This pack of dogs want to sell us to you tin bliksems in exchange for a belly-full of food and soft beds. That makes it my business. House Torgal is dead as gosa, and now we're expected to go belly-up for House Robota? Pfft! Makes me want to kek my guts up just thinking about it, man!"

I had a pretty fair idea where he was taking this. By this time, JUNO and DIGBY were slowly and unobtrusively making their way toward this charming tableau. IANTO had positioned himself alarmingly close to Polyakov's thugs, although to the casual eye it seemed that he was deep in an animated discussion with a clutch of enraptured youngsters. He was currently playing holograms of Manannán's friendlier life forms to entertain them.

"Nothing of the sort, Mister Polyakov. Look, we can discuss this reasonably. Tell you what, I'll get us all some good-sized mugs of chai, and we'll sit somewhere a bit quieter. I'll tell you everything that you want to know, a one-to-one briefing... Okay?"

I excused myself and made my way over to the auto-galley. Bit of a problem. No coffee machine.

Feeling rather sheepish, I called back over my shoulder. "Hang on a sec, folks. I forgot to attach the drinks machines to these gizmos. Sorry about that."

After nano-lathing coffee machines on both galley units, I called up a couple of trays laden with steaming mugs of chai. I picked up both trays and weaved through knots of strolling colonists like a veteran Parisian waiter. I set them on a nearby stone table, taking a modest bow.

"Please, help yourselves. Dozo."

I collected two mugs, graciously offering one to Polyakov.

"Here you go, bratets. Let's find somewhere else to sit."

Grudgingly, Polyakov accepted.

We found a small niche along the portside wall of the atrium. It had been carved out of the basalt, cunningly shaped to form a curved bench and a low-set table. A capital spot for an in-depth conversation. I sat down and took a grateful sip of my chai. Polyakov glared balefully from the shadows, remaining stubbornly silent. I took another invigorating sip, smacking my lips with distinct pleasure. Splendid. A most excellent chai. He sat and fumed. His mug remained untouched, slowly cooling as the minutes ticked by. Such a pity. I smiled in his face and let the moment hang unspoken, each second precisely calculated to completely irritate the living crap out of him.

I set my mug down on the basalt table and leaned forward a little.
Polyakov's expression had shifted imperceptibly from a glare of pure hatred to a disdainful sneer over the past few minutes.

"Mister Polyakov... May I call you Armin?"

Polyakov grunted dismissively.

"I'll take that as a yes." I said, smiling. "Armin, as I mentioned earlier, my colleagues and I wish to assist the colonists in this base. There are no ulterior motives behind this gesture. No hidden agendas, in spite of what you may think. We have no intention of exploiting these people in any way, shape or form. If additional labour resources are required for any of our projects, we either fabricate more automated drones or devise purpose-built amplification systems for our bodies."

He was beginning to look slightly bored already. Not much of an attention span, apparently. I took another swig of chai, inwardly amused as his body tensed in anticipation of a surprise attack that never came. Sorry to disappoint you, Pally.

"What exactly do you do here, Armin? - Your function within the colony, I mean." I asked casually.

He favoured me with another dirty look before replying.

"I am Invigilator here. My five deputies watch over the colonists and protect them from harm. Now you are coming here and making trouble for everyone." He rubbed his jaw speculatively. "I think this could end very badly for you, Roboto-san. You should leave now, while my mood is still good, eh?"

"Protect the colonists, Armin? Protect them from what, precisely?" I asked innocently. "You're in a closed ecology, sealed off from any hostile life forms by a pair of two metre-thick titanium alloy pressure doors. What additional defensive benefits could you and your men possibly provide?"

I leaned back against the bench slowly, making a show of getting myself more comfortable.

"I'm not sure if anyone here has enough energy to spare for causing a ruckus, Armin. By the way, I couldn't help but notice you and your mates are a braw and bonny bunch of lads. All fine specimens of manhood, despite a woeful lack of edibles in these parts. How is this possible, Armin?"

"Extra rations. An Invigilator and his men must be strong." Polyakov muttered truculently.

"Aye. I can tell you've been eating your Weeties diligently every morning... And most likely, someone else's as well. Just a wild guess. Now, regarding your highly public display of dissatisfaction a few minutes ago. Is there anything you'd care to tell me about that?"

"Nyet. It does not concern you. You should leave here, now."

"Ah, but it does concern me, Armin. I am concerned that someone might be running a shakedown operation in this colony. These people are doing their level best to stay alive in the face of severe hardship. The very last thing that they need is some standover merchant and his mates leeching off their hard work, providing absolutely nothing in return. Do you hear what I'm saying, Armin?"

Lol it sounds like the colonists maybe either
A. Hiding somthing
B. Not so open about who is in control

And going back to aurora falls torgaljin corp was VERY interested in selkirks androids... Possible plot twist in the future?

I'm also starting to think that Selkirk and company hopefully have a change of clothes (bodies) at home.. If this goes badly Selkirk would have given them the one thing that they actually wanted from the get go.. Selkirks own advanced tech.

Lol it sounds like the colonists maybe either
A. Hiding somthing
B. Not so open about who is in control

And going back to aurora falls torgaljin corp was VERY interested in selkirks androids... Possible plot twist in the future?

I'm also starting to think that Selkirk and company hopefully have a change of clothes (bodies) at home.. If this goes badly Selkirk would have given them the one thing that they actually wanted from the get go.. Selkirks own advanced tech.